Blissfull Ignorance
by LadyVindicator
Summary: Logan wakes up to find himself in a hospital bed with restraints across his arms and chest. Xavier has seemingly betrayed him… memories long forgotten finally resurface. Torture beyond imagination lies in store for him through these memories.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I DO NOT OWN WOLVERINE, as much as I wish I did. And I don't own X-Men either.

**Summary:** Logan wakes up to find himself in a hospital bed with restraints across his arms and chest. Xavier has seemingly betrayed him… memories long forgotten finally resurface. Torture beyond imagination lies in store for him through these memories.

**AN: **Please review? I want to know what you think.

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Blissful Ignorance

_Silver Fox… the Professor… Weapon X… Dammit! Why can't I remember my own fucking memories?_

Logan's thoughts were interrupted by a low voice. Xavier's. Logan quieted his internal anger and strained to hear.

"I don't know…" The voice faltered and lowered even more. Using his extra sensitive ears to understand the nearly-silent voice of the one man he trusted the most – even if he wouldn't admit it – Logan shut his eyes tightly in concentration.

Xavier was speaking, "… I'm not sure if this is a good idea, Eric. Logan is a very powerful asset and a good friend. If anything were to happen…"

Logan's eyes snapped open as he heard the name of the other man. _Eric. Eric Magnus Lehnsherr. The bastard._ Logan tried to sit up in anger but to his surprise, he was strapped onto a bed. _What…?_

Trying to comprehend where he was, Logan turned his head to the left only to see a heart monitor, set up on the top of an IV pole. He caught a glimpse of his chest and realized he had no shirt on. Puzzlement slowly giving way to an alert wariness, but not yet full-blown panic, Logan noticed the small stickers on his abdomen and arms, attached to wires. The wires trailed along the floor for some length and ended at the back of the heart monitor. The steady beep of the monitor was loud; Logan wondered why he hadn't heard it until now.

What had happened? Logan's confusion was evident by the increasing speed of loud beeps coming from the monitor. At least, from what Logan could tell, the IV hadn't gone in yet. The tubes and wires attached to the pump seemed to be ready for IV injection, but whoever's job it was to start the IV, they hadn't gotten around to it yet.

Logan's panic was slightly abated by the sound of Xavier's raised voice in the adjacent room. "Gods, Lehnsherr! Are you insane?! I cannot completely open those barriers on Logan's mind like that; there's no telling what will happen."

Xavier's voice lowered to quiet mutter. Logan ignored the voices and tensed his muscles in silent fury. It was bad enough that Xavier was working with Magneto, but what was he planning on doing with him? Logan had expected to hear fury on behalf of what was being done to him, but Xavier seemed to be cooperating with Magneto, which meant he had was taking part in whatever plan required Logan being strapped onto the hospital bed.

Betrayal was Logan's first thought, but he quickly discarded it. Xavier would never intentionally betray Logan; they had been together as a team for too long and they had gone through too much together. Besides, Xavier seemed to be showing concern for what might happen to him…

Logan's mind continued to dissect Xavier's harsh outburst. _What barriers on my mind?_ Frantically trying to make sense of a single phrase, Logan wondered if it had to do with his inability to remember anything before his life with the X-Men.

Dim memories and short flashbacks were all Logan had of his past. That and the dog tags he always wore around his neck. Logan knew that he had been some sort of special operative in the army, and that they had experimented on him, but nothing more.

Logan had appealed to Xavier numerous times; asking if it were possible to somehow make him remember using Xavier's powerful telepathy, but Xavier had never been able to penetrate the chaotic mess of memories long forgotten.

The revelation that Xavier might have been lying when he had said it wasn't possible struck Logan. _He's probably known how to unlock my memories all this time. And now he's working with that sonofabitch._

Logan furiously tried to break free of his restraints. The straps holding him down looked as if they were made out of a tough plastic, probably specially engineered for this moment. Logan was a hell of a lot stronger than he looked, and he looked pretty strong to begin with. When the plastic wouldn't budge, Logan's fury increased and the monitor started flashing as the little numbers recording his heart rate steadily increased.

The furious mutterings in the other room were silenced. Loud footsteps echoed outside and a quiet voice said, "I believe he is awake." It was Magneto's smooth, mellifluous voice, slightly sardonic, and it made Logan, if possible, even angrier.

Logan let out a feral roar as the door to the room flew open. Pulling upwards as far as his restraints would allow, Logan looked up at the figures. Xavier stood alongside Magneto, looking haggard and pale. His eyes, normally a calm, trusting blue, were filled with an emotion Logan couldn't quite place.

Magneto, on the other hand, looked as cruel and unassuming as ever. His wide and muscular frame seemed to contradict his white hair and bony hands; even after knowing him for so long, Logan still couldn't guess his true age.

Xavier quietly cleared his throat, and Logan swung his head to face him. Before Xavier had a chance to speak, Logan violently spit in his face.

Xavier blinked rapidly and Magneto barked out an arrogant laugh. "You see, Charles? I told you he would not remember."

Magneto's words reverberated in Logan's mind, empty of everything but an intense hatred of both Xavier and Magneto. The next words came to Logan as a shock,

"He doesn't realize that he asked for you to do this to him."

Logan's jaw slackened and his mouth dropped open. _What?_ Fury now replaced with indignation, Logan peered closely at Xavier for a reply.

Xavier looked at Logan somewhat forlornly, adding to Logan's increasing confusion. "Logan…" Xavier sighed. "I have always told you that it was not possible to open the barriers in your mind, but… Eric was, and still is, certain that…" he glanced at Magneto and continued in a stronger voice, "That there may be a way. What he had proposed was extremely dangerous but you insisted on trying. I set it up myself…"

Xavier paused and shook his head, lost in the memory. Logan still couldn't recall having ever been told such information.

He took a deep breath and continued, "This all happened four days ago. I tried to go deep, but you blacked out and there were no results. Thank the gods you've finally woken up. I'm afraid that Magneto's idea has not work—"

"Not true." Magneto interrupted loudly. "You refused to dig deep enough. If I had had my way and forced you to—"

"As I was saying Logan," Xavier quietly but effectively cut Magneto off, "That in view of the risks, I am afraid there is nothing more I can to do help this unfortunate situation. We can only hope that, with time, your mind will heal and bring forth the memories you are so desperate to remember." Xavier took a long look at the straps holding Logan to the hospital bed.

"I must remind you, however, that the memories may not actually be what you seek. Perhaps it is better that you not know. Ignorance is bliss, after all."

Logan tensely watched Xavier as he quietly spoke, very aware of Magneto's intense stare. He was unable to remember any of the events that Xavier had described. With a sense of finality, Logan watched as Xavier stepped forward to unstrap him from his restraints.

Suddenly, Logan's mind exploded with pain. Bright colours clouded his senses as memories of untold horrors flooded his brain.

He remembered.

Logan knew, with a sudden clarity, what the Weapon X Project was and why he was without memories. He suddenly knew about the Professor, and all the others who had inflicted unimaginable tortures on him.

He remembered Silver Fox, the woman he had fallen in love with after his fiancée, Mariko Yashida, had died.

Silver Fox brought out the most powerful emotion deep within him. Yet he could not fathom why. Memories were still being held captive in the deep contours of his brain.

Logan's vision swam in and out of focus. Magneto was standing behind Xavier, hands on his shoulders. Incoherently shouting at them, Logan felt another stab of pain; his vision blurred and he saw flashes of colour once more.

With a gasp, he relived one of his most painful and most deeply suppressed memories.

_Logan stood, looking far out into the horizon as the orange-red canvas of the sky slowly dimmed with the setting sun. Ears pricked for the slightest movement, he relaxed his shoulders and quietly sat on the mossy boulder on the ground. He was in the Canadian wilderness; a place he had not been in a while, since he had been somewhat-forcefully recruited to the Weapon X Project and Department H._

_The fact that he was a highly trained operative for the Canadian government wasn't the part that bothered him, though. It wasn't even the killing of innocents that he took part in every time he had a mission. Logan had been around for a long time and all he wanted now was a place to relax. This next mission was going to be tough; it was personal._

_He thought back to all the times he and she had spent time together. Logan had been horrified to find out that she was the mole; Silver Fox didn't seem like the type of person to play the role of double agent._

_But the evidence was sound, and when Logan though more about it, he realized that the clues had been there all along. He just hadn't wanted to see them._

_Silver Fox was a ruthless woman; her aggressiveness and lack of mercy almost matched Logan's. They had been a perfect match – his love of fighting with reckless abandon and her love of murdering vindictively. But now it would be over._

_The funny thing was – and it made Logan smile even in his chaotic and depressed state of mind – that he didn't even know her real name. All he had was an alias; Logan hadn't even told her his own real name, not that he even knew it. The Weapon X surgeons had made sure of that. Logan suddenly wondered if she even knew her own real name._

_A twig snapped fifty metres away and Logan snapped to attention. A slight shift of air behind him alerted him to the fact that she had crept up behind him a lot faster than he had anticipated. Logan whirled around._

"_Silverfox."_

_Silver Fox's eyes widened in surprise; apparently she had though she was being completely silent. Then she frowned and brushed some of her wispy dark hair from her eyes._

"_Wolverine," she replied, a smile curving her lips playfully. Mockingly. The twinkle in her eyes made Logan's stomach squirm. Even know, she was teasing him for his formality._

_But of course she didn't know._

_Logan recalled the day he first met her. It had been a wet, cold day in the holographic training room. The room's artificially-created weather had been completely opposite to the weather outside._

_He had greeted her coldly, unaware that they would later fall in love. At that moment he was being forced to take her along to be trained in the art of assassination._

_The thing that had struck him the most was her eyes. The pale features of her face, and her hair, such a deep brown that it looked black, brought out the colourlessness in her eyes. They were a blue-grey colour, but you wouldn't notice it at first glance. Anyone who didn't know her would think that her irises were clear, or that they were silver. Logan often wondered if this was the reason that she had been named Silver Fox._

_Even now, as he contemplated the way he would kill her, he found himself trapped in the depths of her eyes. It was as if she could reach into his soul and read him like an open book, the way she had always been able to._

_In a flash of defiance, Logan wondered what would happen if he decided not to kill her. They couldn't force him; he was much more powerful than they would ever be, and they knew it. They had ordered him to eliminate her from the team with swift effectiveness, but now that he faced her; Logan wasn't sure that he would be able to go through with it._

"_Logan?" Silver Fox watched him with concern on her face. The irony of the situation made Logan want to laugh._

_Her pale beauty was enhanced by the glowing light of the setting sun. In this light, she looked like the radiant goddess Athena, whose description of wiliness and combative personality matched her perfectly._

_A shrill bird call brought Logan back to the present. He tore himself away from her eyes and turned towards the distant forest below._

_They were on a hilly cliff-side in the northerly mountainous region of British Columbia. Logan had grown up in an area quite like this one, over sixty years ago. He still remembered it vividly and it was the reason he so loved and abhorred the sight of raw wilderness. In a way, it represented his own savage and violent nature._

_Turning back towards Silver Fox and silently cursing to himself for acting so distant and distracted, Logan made an effort to act normally._

_He looked out across the wide expanse of wilderness and grunted, "This place brings back memories."_

_Silver Fox looked at him with faint curiosity. She looked as if she wanted to ask him something; she opened her mouth to speak, but after a few moments, closed it again without saying a word._

_Logan watched the sunlight shine on her pale skin. He shifted his weight and readjusted his position on the mossy ground._

"_Did Cutler give you your new assignment yet?" Dale Cutler was the coordinator for the special operation division of Department H, the Weapon X Project in particular. He had been one of the heads of security during Logan's "rite of passage", the period of transformation. The experiments._

_Cutler was the one who briefed the special operatives, most of them mutants who were experimented on and "improved" in some way. It had been Cutler who had given him this mission._

_Cutler should have known what had been coming for him from the moment the words escaped his lips. Perhaps he had, and he just managed to conceal his fears and anxiety. Nobody wanted to be around when Logan got angry. He was unstable; often giving way to berserk madness. Lately he had been better, though. He didn't lose control as often. But Cutler's concise briefing had completely unhinged Logan. Cutler had managed to escape from the room without too much damage, however; he had gone to the hospital wing with only a fractured femur, a few broken ribs, and a punctured lung._

_Logan smiled in grim satisfaction, recollecting the shocked horror on the junior security officers' faces when Cutler had dragged himself limply from the room after their encounter._

_He turned back to Silver Fox, who was frowning in contemplation. "No…" she started slowly, "I was actually quite puzzled by the fact that the superiors had my briefing delayed. They told me that I should go back next week and that I had the weekend off." She looked up at Logan with a coy smile. "Why? Did you happen to do anything to him?"_

_Logan grimaced inwardly. She knew him so well. With a grin, he replied, "Kind of. He pissed me off."_

"_Some assignment," she mused. "That bad, no?"_

"_You bet." Logan's tormented mind swam with excuses, different methods to get out of the situation he was in. But no, if she was the mole, then she _should_ die._

_Logan watched as Silver Fox stood up and smoothly stepped across the uneven hill, to the opposite side of the cliff. She sighed. "Beautiful, isn't it?"_

_Logan nodded absently. All his senses urged him forward. All his instincts told him that _now_ was the time. The time to do it._

_The time to kill her._

_Logan stood slowly, agonizingly aware of what he was about to do. He took great pains to be quiet, to be stealthy. He came up behind her and made to put his hands on her waist._

_But he didn't. Instead, he stroked her back slowly, to abate any suspicions she might have. Then, with a metallic scrape, he quickly unsheathed his claws and swiftly plunged it into the small of her back._

_Silver Fox made no sound. Her only reaction was a sharp intake of breath and a shallow exhale. Logan didn't know what else to do. His senses told him that he should finish it off, kill her, but Logan couldn't bring himself to do it._

_He detached his claws from her body, slowly retracting them into his knuckles. Silver Fox collapsed to the ground. Logan just stood above her, letting the pain of what he had done wash over and consume him._

_The pain was excruciating. It dulled all other senses. Logan could hardly believe he could feel so much and so little at the same time._

_Chaos engulfed him. Logan let out a roar that echoed throughout the wilderness, mocking his internal suffering._

_After a few minutes that seemed to last several long eternities, Logan heard a dry cough. He emerged from his self-inflicted comatose state to realize that she was still alive._

_Logan got down on his knees and gently lifted her up, turning her onto her back. The deep gashes had been sliced upwards, and blood was pooled on the floor where she had been laying._

_He cradled her to his chest, getting blood all over his chest and arms. Thick blood oozed from the deep wounds that extended from the back of her body straight through to the front. The deep red blood, contrasting so greatly with her pale skin, completely soaked her. She was seeped in blood; some of it dripped onto his legs and feet._

_Her eyes were still open, watching him quietly. There was no accusation in her eyes. She looked at him, teeth grit in pain, but she said nothing. Her shallow breaths wheezed through her gritted teeth with rasping sounds._

_Finally, she coughed again, spraying blood all over his down-turned face and said in a low voice, "I knew something was wrong the moment they told me I had no assignment. Then when I found you here…" She paused; a dry, hacking cough shook her frame. She continued, "I realized something was wrong. You were so quiet, so distant… and then I knew."_

"_But…" Logan was at a loss for words. His own suffering was inhibiting him; his mind was working sluggishly._

_Remorse flooded him. He had no idea what she meant. Was she really so willing to die?_

_Silver Fox closed her eyes and said, "I knew this would happen eventually; Weapon X couldn't allow my survival. I betrayed them. And you." Her eyes opened and she looked at him coldly. "I knew what I was doing and I'm not sorry I did it. But if it's either you or me, I'd rather you live."_

_Logan stared at her, and another wave of pain washed over him. He held her tightly, in shock._

_Logan stayed kneeled on the ground for a long time, his arms around the woman he had loved, and had killed on orders. During this time, his mind slowly shut down._

_Growling like a feral beast, he let himself go, until he no longer recognized the woman lying dead in front of him. He gave way completely, to savage madness._

Logan let out a savage howl, and with a rush of deeply-felt emotions mirroring those in his memories, he threw himself forward.

His mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. He could see the deep red, thick blood of his long-dead lover all over his hands and arms. Stripes of blood splattered his chest, and Logan felt almost certain that, if he were to look in a mirror, he would find the blood she had coughed onto his face.

Something deep inside Logan told him it was a hallucination, yet it all seemed so real…

In the distance, alarms sounded and shrill beeps filled the air. A flurry of activity behind him dimly reminded Logan of where he was.

His vision swam in and out of focus and the blood continued to spill all over his hands and arms. It was as it she was still bleeding in his arms…

Logan's mind was in a haze; he was slowly drifting into unconsciousness.

Surrendering gratefully into the deep abyss of blackness, Logan heard Xavier's horrified exclamations, and he was vaguely aware of Magneto's harsh replies.

In the din, Logan heard a female shriek and the shattering of glass. Frantic voices snapped orders,

"I need an IV start on pump three, he's going into shock."

"So much blood…"

"…to stop the bleeding…"

"Get a surgeon in here; we need to plug the wounds…"

"…not possible… won't heal fast enough…"

"…blood…"

The last thing Logan heard was an exclamation of horror as someone, _probably the surgeon_, he thought dimly, entered the room with a bang of opening doors.

"My God! He's ripped himself completely through the restraints!"

Logan's only reaction as he was ensnared by the enticing emptiness of the unconscious mind was a deep sense of relief at the realization that the pools of blood surrounding him were his, and not Silver Fox's.

Then he surrendered into oblivion.

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**A/N: **Good? Not good? Tell me what you think! I'm glad to say, that after about two months of having this file on my laptop, I have /finally/ decided to post it. Anyway, reviews make me happy, so... make my day?

kthxbye ~ **Kida**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I (very sadly) do not own Wolverine. *sniff*

**Summary:** Logan wakes up to find himself in a hospital bed with restraints across his arms and chest. Xavier has seemingly betrayed him… memories long forgotten finally resurface. Torture beyond imagination lies in store for him through these memories.

So… its been a while. I'm very sorry to all you people who have been waiting for a new chapter. Don't hate, and please review? I want to know what you think. Kthx.

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Blissful Ignorance: Chapter 2

The moment Eric's hands made contact with his shoulders, Xavier felt a huge rush of power, like water in a dam smashing through the surrounding protective walls and destructively flooding a surrounding valley. That was how he felt, Xavier reflected, like a burst dam, like he was being flooded and his own powerful body could not contain all the raw energy that his old best friend—his _ex_ best friend—had harnessed. Magneto had unleashed the full brunt of his powers at Xavier, knowing that he would be forced to lower the barriers on Logan's mind reflexively in order to prevent a power overload. _That was close._

Painfully, Xavier knew he had not succeeded in protecting a troubled friend and a fellow member of the X-Men. He let out a strangled yell as he failed to keep Logan protected from his telepathy. At the first sound that escaped his lips, a flurry of men and women in white lab coats wearing surgical contamination masks swarmed in and escorted the two men out of the room into an adjoined viewing room. In a horrified trance as he was pulled backward into the other room, Xavier watched as the release of his telepathic power reached Logan, and watched as his body stiffened in shock and pain as if in reaction to a physical blow. He watched as, after several long moments, the stiff board that was Logan's body began to seize and jerk.

A low moan resonated through the chambers; Xavier realized it was coming from him, and he quickly quieted himself. Xavier watched helplessly as Eric barked with laughter beside him, apparently overcome with amusement at Logan's obvious agony. Just as Logan began tearing at and throwing his weight on the tough plastic restraints that held him in place, Magneto sneered,

"The poor fool. He can't handle his own memories. Even after all your warnings to him." Out of the corner of his eye, Xavier saw Magneto turn to face him. He felt like Magneto's partner in crime. A remorseful, thoroughly ashamed partner in crime, but one nonetheless. He felt like his insides had turned to glass, and had shattered into a thousand sharp fragments the moment Eric had opened his mouth.

Like a distant echo, he heard Magneto's slanderous words toward Logan, ceasing neither in cruelty nor frequency. He caught the last few words, "Doesn't it _gall_ you, Charles? He just _doesn't _listen." A low chuckle of derision conveyed louder than words exactly how Magneto felt. Xavier tasted bile at the back of his throat. _I was friends with this man once. He has changed so much…_ Another low chuckle. "Weak idiot," Magneto spat.

At those words, Xavier's head snapped up. He tore his gaze away from a now very bloody and howling Logan. "How dare you! I told you nothing could be done. Not safely. Now just look! All you have to do is peer at the man through this glass and see how you are destroying him! Look what is happening! Before our very eyes!"

Magneto matched Xavier's anger with cold scorn. "Fool. Do you truly realize what we have done here? We have harnessed the power of the human mind and done what was thought to be impossible! Even S.H.I.E.L.D. or H.A.M.M.E.R. or whatever they call themselves nowadays is unable to unlock the human mind the way we just have! Department H cannot even begin to fathom how this works! They don't have the imagination for it. But _we _have done it. Think of the implications."

"Oh, please don't attempt to fool me into believing that you did this for the_ good of humanity_, you'll just embarrass yourself. Don't play me for the fool, Eric. I may be many things, but an idiot is not one of them." Try as he might, Xavier couldn't figure out Eric's true intentions. _What is he planning with Logan? _He feared the manner in which his intentions would be uncovered. _Knowing him, with much pain and destruction, with a hint of theatrical._

Magneto snapped back at Xavier, "Between this, Cerebro, the Danger Room, and countless other projects we have worked on together, you and I, we are the best! We can do anything together! And you are willing to throw this latest project all away for peace of conscience? _Your _conscience? I think not."

_This latest project? Is that how he thinks of it? _Xavier coldly surveyed Magneto in silence as he decided to ignore Magneto's harsh words and wait for an answer to his thoughts, for some clue to lead him to a better understanding of the man he had once called his dearest friend. _The great things we had planned together. The things we could have done for the future, for the world._ He heaved a great sigh and saw Magneto's lip curl into a sneer as he did so. _Eric… how far you have fallen…_

_

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_

Logan woke up to silence, save for the low steady beep of the now familiar heart monitor. He was confused no longer.

He understood.

_That bastard betrayed me._

The swish of a lab coat alerted Logan that he was not alone. Unable to sit up, as he was strapped down again, although not as fiercely as last time, he twisted his head as far back as he could, craning his neck as discreetly as possible to ascertain the identity of this unknown potential threat.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Logan." The calm voice startled him and his muscles coiled tightly in reflex. "No need to be alarmed," the voice continued calmly, probably in response to Logan's wary manner, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Who says I'm 'frightened'?" growled Logan dangerously.

The voice chuckled softly. Not a cold or cruel chuckle, just one of friendly, albeit dangerous, amusement. Logan wasn't fooled however.

"Get out where I can see you, you sonofabi—"

Logan was cut off as the person that the voice belonged to began pressing buttons on the IV machine on his right. The IV emitted loud beeps every time a button was pressed. Logan found the beeps loud and irritating, just like the voice. He gritted his teeth and let out a low growl, a noise akin to the sound a wolf would make when protecting territory or warning away strangers. The person who was the voice ignored him and continued pressing buttons and creating beeps.

"Ah, there!" the voice announced as the last of the beeps echoed in the nearly empty white room. A hospital room, Logan guessed. The voice interrupted his thoughts again. "I've just changed your IV bag. The meds that were being pumped in you lowered your potassium levels significantly. This bag here," a light slapping sound indicated that the person had tapped the IV bag that was presumably hanging on the IV pole, attached to the machine though an IV drip and a long connection of clear tubing and plastic clamps that sent its contents into his veins. "This baby just has the usual sodium chloride along with a bit of potassium to get those levels up. After that," the voice continued, "it seems that you'll be good to go." It sounded as if the person was grinning brightly. Logan decided that the voice was much too cheery. He scowled darkly. "That is," the voice added almost as an afterthought, "if your psychological issues have been sorted out first." This caused Logan to scowl even more deeply. The negative emotions swelled within in him, becoming almost tangible. His anger and fury became unchecked and it seemed to fill the room. The voice caught on quickly and chuckled nervously in response. "Alrighty. I'll just leave you to your thoughts then." And thankfully, finally, the voice shut up.

Several long moments passed in heavy silence. Then, _of course_, the voice began to talk again. Logan imagined being able to move and pictured himself strangling the voice, this _person_ that this voice belonged to. He smiled inwardly. _This bastard doesn't know what he's got coming to him when I get the fuck out of here._

"Well, pal, it was nice chatting to you, but I'd best be going now. I'll be back in a couple of hours to check on you and do your vitals. Later." Logan felt relief as he listened to the voice's coat swish toward the door that must be behind him. He heard the light patter of the person's footsteps and the metallic scrape of a heavy door being pulled open and then a clatter as it was shut.

Finally, some peace.

_Not really_, a little voice in Logan's mind said. He irritably forced it away as he tried not to think of the barrage of horrors he had experienced two nights ago, the onslaught of memories that had assailed him and sickened him beyond belief. The things he had done, the things that had been donetohim… it seemed like another lifetime. Sure, he was still savage, still animalistic in a reckless and wild sort of way.

However, in this new life, the life _after_ the blocked memories, not once had he given in to berserk madness, or savage violence and petty crime. He had been at the top, an operative for the government, but at a terrible price. And afterward, as well as before he had been "volunteered" for the Weapon X Project, he had been a violent criminal, a drifter who traveled from town to town, from bar to tavern to gin mill, getting drunk and getting into bar fights with paltry thieves and mindless thugs. It had always been the same for him, for so many years. Trusted associate double crossed him, fading old-timers and young punks challenged him. His reputation had been a double-edged sword that he had come to rely on. The funny thing was, Logan reflected, that he hadn't minded that life. Had even enjoyed it on occasion.

Of course, there had been rough patches, especially bad times like the one that he had been in when he fell into such a depressed state that he drank nonstop for weeks on end, inducing a kind of mental blackout that caused him to be captured by one crime leader or another. Or the one time when he had been savagely shoved into a tank and attached to electrodes and tubes for experimentation. Like a savage dog that had no rights. But he had fought back. Like the wild dog-like creature that was his namesake, he had fought back.

Like a wolverine.

But it was all over now. _Wasn't it?_ Logan wasn't so sure anymore. These… memories, they had changed all of that certainty that Logan used to feel, into a kind of muddled sludge of ideas and thoughts. Xavier had been right to warn him, although Logan had trouble coming out and admitting it outright, even to himself.

He was so confused. He could barely think, but he wouldn't allow himself to relax, lest he let down the barriers he had at first hurriedly put up, clumsily, when he first had to deal with all the pain in his past. But he had been mercifully been given two whole days to carefully construct barriers around his sanity before someone had come into his spacious and brightly lit hospital room. He had been slow and meticulous in building a brick wall between his memories and his… well, _memories_. But the brick wall had a door to the other side, and a careful, well-lit path from which to view his memories, one by one, keeping his sanity... _sort-of in check_.

Xavier had taught him how to do it; he was a master of minds in a way that had baffled Logan at first. But over time, as their friendship had grown and escalated to the point that Logan was able to call him Chuck without earning a glare, he had began to understand the man. Not immediately, or completely, but enough to be able to learn how keep control of his own mind and protect himself from potential telepathic attack.

So, in shock and in pain, that was what he had done. Only this time, it had been his friend, the teacher himself, who had done the attacking. And the betrayal stung.

Despite his precautions however, the jumble of memories was chaotic and refused to stay in any sort of rational order. It took all his strength to keep himself from succumbing to madness.

Then the thought struck him. _Let me fall into madness._

At least then he might be able to understand himself better. A few days were all he really needed, a week at the most. After that, he would once again collect his thoughts and safely tuck them away.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted by an unwelcome someone who entered the room noisily, opening the door behind him with a clatter. A stumble of sounds suggested that this _someone_ had tripped, over his own feet presumably. Logan let out a loud breath of air.

"Dear me, very sorry about that. I don't know why I keep falling over today." Logan groaned inwardly. Another mysterious voice. "At least I didn't knock anything over this time, did I?"

"Getthefuckout."

This _new_ person, _new_ voice, stumbled again and coughed nervously. "Afraid I can't do that, dear chap. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll be feeling alright in a little while. After all, it must the the influence of the drugs… and a bit of your own _wonderful_ personality that is making you snap at me in this way." With a few more loud steps and a stumble, the new person stepped into Logan's line of sight.

Logan tried to hide his surprise, unsuccessfully, and then he lunged forward, even though he knew it was of no use in his restrained state. _Another betrayal. I _knew_ that voice sounded familiar._

"You… you're with the Professor as well, eh bub?" Logan tried to spit hard in the man's face, but missed. Anger brewed in the pit of his stomach. "I never thought I'd see the day that Sean Cassidy would betray a good friend and fellow X-Men member." He growled. "Or don't I qualify as one of you anymore? Am I 'just an animal', like everyone claims?"

Sean Cassidy's face looked pained. "Professor Xavier told me you were like this, but I couldn't believe it." He shook his head ruefully, "Do you _really_ think Charles would betray you?"

Staunchly clinging to his feelings of betrayal and anger, Logan refused to listen. "Listen, bub. You get me the hell you of here and I'll leave you the fuck alone. I won't hurt any of you. But if I have to fight to get outta here," Logan's eyes gleamed with an urge to leap up at the man who was called Banshee, "You and the rest of the X-Men, you're all dead if you cross me."

Banshee's eyes widened as if just realizing how far Logan was willing to go to escape. But they had betrayed him, and who knew what experiments Xavier would be planning with Magneto? As painful as it was to admit it, Logan knew that the X-Men were now enemies. The mansion, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, was no longer his home, his refuge from the world. He had had enough. It was time to face the real world again, where he was hunted and feared.

"But… Logan. We're not the bad guys. You're just confused. The only reason you're strapped in like this is because of you state of mind…" Banshee seemed to come to a decision. "I want you to understand that we don't want to hurt you. But if it comes to it, I will fight you to keep you from leaving. You're a danger to everyone like this!"

"Put a lock on it, Cassidy. I just want to get out of here."

Banshee shook his head sadly. "Sorry Wolverine, no can do." He gazed at Logan for a long time, shook his head again, this time as if to clear it, and then he headed toward the door. Logan lost sight of him after the first few heavy steps. He glowered in silence as Banshee accidentally knocked over something by the door with a loud clatter and quietly cursed. He promised himself that he would never forgive Banshee for backing up Xavier. He knew that this conversation had split a wide chasm between the two friends; Sean Cassidy had become one of the X-Men closest to Logan ever since they had successfully defeated Sabretooth together after the attack on Logan's birthday three years ago.

After the loud slam of the door behind him indicating that Banshee had left, Logan was left to brood. He became immersed in memory and he let himself get lost in pain.

"_Don't' you talk to me like that! You understand me, "Soft John"?" A heavy thud and a slapping sound echoed through the large manor. James Howlett, startled and scared, ran towards the voices. That was his father that Mister Logan was abusing._

"_Papa? Is that you?" James reached the large door to his mother's room and peered in cautiously. He knew he wasn't allowed in his mother's room. She was very ill, Papa always told him. James shivered. He missed her terribly, although she scared him now. Sometimes, at night, he could hear he loud cackling and singing. The worst, he thought, was when he could hear her deranged screams and sobbing._

"_Papa?" he called again. "I thought I heard a noise…" James rubbed his eyes and walked through the open doorway just a loud bang echoed through the room. He looked toward the sound just to see his father fly backwards and crumple against a wall, a huge blood spatter staining the whitewash wall on the opposite end of the room._

"_Papa!" he heard himself yell involuntarily. His feet traveled of their own accord and he found himself running toward his father's limp body. "Papa… No! Papa!" Reaching his father, he shook the still body. A cold chill rose inside him, traveling up his spine and a dull ache in his stomach made him feel sick. His mind was numb as he stared at his father. His father's face was disfigured, the bullet had gone clean though his head, and the result made James want to vomit._

"_Papa, it's me! James! __Oh, Papa…" he coughed as he began sobbing loudly, while he faintly processed the sound of his mother's deranged shrieks._

_Mister Logan was there, behind him. He yelled to his son Dog, who for some reason was also in the room, holding Rose. "Make her shut up! And the boy, too!"_

_Sniveling, James sat beside his father, rocking back and forth as he turned to look at Dog and his father. Dog look slightly sick. He was shaking but he obeyed his father and ordered, "Someone shut that idiot up! I swear Rose… I ain't never been more serious in my life! I can't think straight!"_

_Despite the warnings, James could not cease his sobbing. He shut his eyes and Dog shoved the barrel of his rifle at him. _

"_I said shut _up_ James!" Dog yelled wildly. James turned his head away in terror. There was so much _noise_…_

"_James! Look out!" A gentle voice, hitched in panic, screamed out a warning as the rifle emitted a loud bang. James' heart almost stopped… but the bullet never reached him. He opened his eyes warily, hiccupping in terror. Dog had missed; he lay sprawled on the floor with Rose pinning him down with all her weight. Her red hair was tangled and her dress was ripped at the shoulders and by her feet. Her eyes displayed a wild quality that James had never seen before. He suddenly felt ashamed at his cowardice._

_Dog shoved his way out from under Rose, who lay limply on the floor breathing hard. Dog leaned forward menacingly, James took the opportunity to gather his courage and turn his pain into terrible rage at his father's cold-blooded murder. He slapped Dog hard across the face. Dog's head snapped back and he flew backwards with the impact. He crumpled to the floor in tears and curled into a tight ball, sobbing. James ignored him and turned to see Mister Logan in from of his mother._

_Rage blinding him, James ran at Mister Logan. "You killed him! You killed my Papa!" Tears were streaming down his face and he could barely see, but he didn't care. He wanted to hurt Mister Logan, he wanted to hurt him like he had hurt his father. He wanted justice. _

"_I'll kill you back! I'll _kill_ you!" James lunged at Mister Logan, who swung around in surprise and anger at being distracted from his prize. His Mama._

"_James, no!" His mother hysterically tugged at Mister Logan's sleeve. "Thomas… don't hurt him! He's my son! Please!"_

_Mister Logan pulled himself away from Mrs. Howlett's feeble grasp just as James jumped at him. "Get offa me, you little runt!" he howled as James' thirteen year old fists pounded his shoulder. With his rifle, Mister Logan slammed the butt of his weapon into James' chest, winding him and making him catapult five feet backward. He dropped to the floor with a loud thump and James lay there in pain, tears still rolling down his face, blurring the images before him._

_A blurry Mister Logan towered in front of him, the barrel of the rifle in James' face. "You soft little turd! You think there ain't another barrel-full where that one came from? I'll have your bloody guts fer garters!"_

_James let out a wild cry and an overwhelming force seemed to swell inside of him. A blinding pain tore at his knuckles. With an almost feral roar, James leapt up an shoved the rifle away from his face and his fists connected with Mister Logan's abdomen._

_Still, Mister Logan angrily roared, "I'm gonna—" Faltering, he took a teetering step forward and started again, "Gonna…" He looked down at his chest in confusion. Six streaks had been cut into his skin, and blood was pooling around each deep cut, seeping into his plaid shirt. "..What did you…?" He pressed his hand against the wound and when he removed them, he hands were steeped in blood. "…dear Lord…" he whispered as he coughed and collapsed to the ground with a thud._

_James let out a terrible yell. His hands _hurt_ so much, it felt like his knuckles were splitting open and he howled in both physical pain and in anguish at having witnessed the brutal slaughter of his father._

_He heard Rose whisper in terror, "Oh sweet mother of God. James…"_

_James slowly walked back to where his father lay dead, leaving Mister Logan to die slowly, painfully. He dropped to his knees weakly beside his father's body. A large pool of blood was around his head, seeping into the carpet and still spreading across the floor._

"_Papa! Nah… Papa… My hands!" Finally summoning the courage to look down at his hands and fearing the worst, James took a deep breath to look at what had terrified Rose so much that she had been shocked into silence. He spread his arms out in front of him and looked down._

_And screamed._

_In between each of his knuckles, there was a long protrusion of gnarled bone. The points were sharp and bloody from where they had pierced Mister Logan. He looked up at his mother in terror. She stood where Mister Logan had fallen and when he looked up at her she said,_

"_Oh, dear God."_

_James sobbed into his father's cold body, arms outstretched in fear that the… abominations that were his hands would spring up and kill someone else of their own accord. When he looked back up, his mother was looking at him in horror._

"_Oh, James… oh..please… not you…"_

_Incredibly, James could no longer feel the pain in his hands. His eyes brimming with hot tears, he stood up and staggered toward his mother. "Mama, I…I can't feel my hands!" He turned frantically, "Rose?" He turned back to his mother. "What's happened to my hands?"_

_Rose was crouching in a small crevice by the huge dresser. "James… oh, Lord have mercy, what _are_ you?"_

_Her words struck him like a physical blow. What was he? Still looking at his mother imploringly, he took another step towards her. She was mumbling to herself frantically,_

"…_ohh… not again, not you… no, James not you! Not again!"_

"_Mama? Why are these people here?" He could feel the… things… on his hands moving. He looked down. They were shrinking, retracting back into his flesh. He looked back up at his mother. "Mama?" he repeated, reaching out his arms, hoping for comfort._

_But with her he found no comfort. "Get away from me!" she shrieked, and slapped him across the face._

_James staggered back in pain and confusion. He looked about him, suddenly unsure about what had happened. "No, Mama…" he sniffed. "Mama, I've not been bad, I promise." James took a big gulp of air and tried to stem the flow of tears. "I love you, Mama…"_

_His mother had backed away. She was by her nightstand now. Frantically grabbing the gold-plated candlestick that stood on the top of her nightstand, she hurled it in his direction with force. "You are not my son! You're a monster… and animal!" James ducked as the candlestick flew in his direction; it soared back his head and connected with the windowpane behind him, shattering the glass. Shards of sharp glass went everywhere. The back of James' neck stung, his back felt like a hundred sharp needles had pierced it._

"_Mama, please!"_

"_Get out of this house, you damned abomination!"_

"_Mama, no… no! Mama!" James let out a loud, unending wail as he ran out of his mother's room without looking back. He stumbled down the stairs of the large mansion sobbing. He tripped on the fifth step, and he fell face first and rolled down the rest of the steps, coming to a stop in a bloody heap at the foot of the stairs. Getting up quickly, he ran away… ran toward the door in a panic. He just wanted to get away. "Mama…" he whispered between sobs as he reached the large oak front door and fumbled with the latch. "Papa…"_

_He finally got the door unlocked and he heaved it open. He tripped over the two steps that descended onto the grounds of the Howlett Estate. It was a cold autumn night, but he didn't notice the chill nor the red and yellow leaves blowing around him. He stumbled again, and this time he could not keep himself going. He dropped to the ground and curled up into the fetal position. The claws still protruded from his hands, a small trickle of blood oozing from each opening where the claw had slid out._

_He could hear a voice in the distance calling his name. He feebly reached one arm out. "M-mama…? Is that you? I'm so cold…"_

_A loud bang echoed throughout the grounds. He knew it came from inside the house, from inside his mother's room. "Mama…" He now knew that the person reaching out for him was not his mother, as he had so hoped, but Rose. He wondered vaguely who had been shot if everyone but his mother had been left standing._

"_James? It's me, James. It's Rose. James, I…" A hand reached out an softly touched his hair. Gently stroked his head and comforted him as he wept silently. His body shook._

"_It burns so… my skin," he whimpered._

_He felt Rose pull his head onto her lap. Her arms encircled his head comfortingly and she quietly tried to soothe him. His thoughts in turmoil, he suddenly realized that the shot had been of his mother killing herself. Through a glimmer of understanding, he suddenly realized that Thomas Logan had been her lover…_

_The shock of realizing that _both_ his parents were now dead was too much for him. His mind shut down on him and he felt his humanity ebbing away. What little he could see though his bared open eyelids blurred and everything went grey._

_With a gasping breath and tears still leaking from his eyes, he moaned, "No…" before he passed out._

Logan was sobbing freely now, lost in the memory of such a horrible night. It had been the first time his claws had been unsheathed. Out of his pure desperation and terror, he had killed Thomas Logan, the groundskeeper for his father's estate.

Rose had saved him, nurtured him back to sanity, and had given him the groundskeeper's name for protection. From then on, he had been called Logan, living in the quarries of British Columbia in hiding from the authorities who sought them for the murders.

Logan's tears dripped down his face as he cried himself to sleep.

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**A/N:** So. its been centuries since I updated. Please don't hate :/ Make me happy and review! ~**Kida**


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